


I Didn't Do It

by bjfic_archivist



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Canon, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-07-30
Updated: 2003-07-30
Packaged: 2018-12-26 18:39:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12064761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bjfic_archivist/pseuds/bjfic_archivist
Summary: Justin is seemingly discarded as murder hits Liberty ave. Can Brian find it in himself to chase him?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

It had seemed so long since he received the call that he had lost his mother, to a car crash of all things. It was that that tore Justin Taylor's world apart, he would have been shattered, if not for one small saving grace, Molly was unhurt. 

The vehicle had been crumpled from his mother's side, instantly killing her. He had been helped immensely by Brian, who mainly arranged the funeral, and he had helped make sure that Molly was happy in a foster home, with the family of her best friend. 

Now Justin lived more or less happily with Brian at the loft, because Michael had moved back in home, and Ted and Emmet now lived together. 

Justin finally thought that his life was getting back on track, the physio helping him get his hand back closer to what it had been before. Before being the bashing, Ethan, and loosing and finding Brian. He was wrong…

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Brian sped toward Babylon in a scared frenzy, he slammed the breaks on as he reached liberty ave, the police were everywhere, tape was everywhere. It was a crime scene, and he couldn't make head or tail of anything that was going on around him. 

Suddenly an ambulance came racing past, almost knocking him over, making him lose his balance and go reeling into the person who was running to meet him. 

The lights were flashing and sirens sounding, with the police repeating something out of a megaphone. He turned to the person currently holding him up.

"Oh God Brian, it was, it was so fast, we couldn't,  
couldn't see anything." Emmet's eyes flitted from  
Brian's to Ted's face, Ted was currently sitting on the short wall behind him, staring at the ground.

"We heard the shot, and he, he just fell and it was too late"

Emmet raked his hand through his hair and down over his face, rubbing away the tears that were streaming down his face.

"God Brian," he continued, "What do we do?"

"I'll tell you what we do" He grabbed his keys "We go  
to the hospital and we be there when he wakes up, ok?" Brian started marching towards the jeep, but Ted pulled his arm, making him spin around.

"It was Justin."  
Brian just stared at him, then blinked, his forehead scrunching in confusion.

"What?" Ted swallowed,  
"Well, we didn't see…not exactly…" he swallowed  
again. "Um, you see…"  
Brian cut him off "I don't fucking believe you, you find  
someone who saw it, and you ask them. Now."

Emmet pulled aside the first chicken that walked past,  
"What happened here?" He asked, the chicken raised his eyebrows, "You haven't heard? God, Kinney's twink just went completely mental and shot this dude" He carried on walking.

Brian's face was blank, "Come on, we're going to the  
hospital"   
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

Justin hummed to himself as he took off his coat, leaving only Brian's borrowed jacket on. He was happy for once, he slumped down and flicked on the TV, flashing channels because he was bored. 

Brian had been teasing him on the phone the whole day, and couldn't wait for what he had in store for him when he finally got home from work.

He sighed and glanced at the clock again, it was really late for Brian to be at work, but he resigned himself to waiting, Brian had promised him faithfully that he wouldn't go anywhere after work.

A feeling of worthlessness churned inside him, realising that Brian most probably went off with some trick, and his eyes became itchy and hot as he found that he was feeling like a backup plan again.

Feeling low and tired Justin finally fell asleep, cold and alone, huddled up in one corner of the expensive white leather couch. 

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-  
Brian was pacing the hospital floors, tired, and emotionally drained. 

He slumped down onto one of the horrid plastic chairs. Michael had been in surgery for the last hour, and Brian was beginning to feel doubt creep into his mind. 

Just then, Emmet placed a Styrofoam cup into his hands, filled with what was meant to be coffee, he took a sip and grimaced, but he smiled warmly up at Emmet who just smiled a tiny press of his lips,   
and sat back down with Ted. 

Around twenty minutes later, a doctor and nurse, and two burly looking men came through the white swinging doors. 

"Mr Kinney?" The young female ventured, Brian shot out his chair and the two men stepped to the woman's  
side.

"How is he?" The woman just looked at him, and then at the floor.

Brian's eyes flitted from Ted to Emmet, back to the nurse, then he questioned the male doctor with his eyes. He began shaking his head slowly, 

"No." He shook it a little more strongly.

"NO, he can't be" His eyes pleaded with them all, but  
they were all looking at the ground, Emmet crying in Ted's arms.

"You don't get it! HE CAN'T BE DEAD!!!!! HE CAN'T  
BE!!!!" He fell forwards, on his hands and knees, tears dropping to the floor, staining the linoleum. 

"He, he just, no I won't believe it…he can't  
be…" he repeated softly.   
Hands gripped him from behind, and he felt himself being lifted, and guided to the jeep. Then it drove off.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

"You be alright here Brian? Want me or Teddy to stay?" He shook his head,

"No, go home Emmet, I'll be fine. See you tomorrow." Ted and Emmet exchanged worried glances, but pulled the door to on their way out. 

The banging of the door roused Justin from his slumber on the couch. Sitting up, he took in Brian.

"Shit Bri." He got up, rubbing his eyes with the back of one hand, 

"You look like hell" Brian didn't move.

"What in the world happened, you were meant to come here after work." 

Justin stretched his hands above his head. Still Brian offered no explanation.

"Well?" Brian's blank face turned to anger, and confusion.  
He opened his mouth, "Why?" 

The loft was silent.  
Justin laughed, "Why what Bri?" Brian's face didn't  
change, he repeated, in a serious tone,

"What? What I do?"  
Brian's eye closed and his adams apple bobbed slowly.

"You, I can't believe you, you selfish, jealous, murderous slut…" 

Brian sat down and sighed into his hands. Justin stared disbelievingly,

"What did you just call me?" Brian looked up at him sharply, glaring, the anger and hate in those eyes shook Justin, and he backed up, gawking openly. 

"I called you what you are, get out…" Justin stood.

"Didn't you hear me… GET OUT! I never want to see you again! GET OUT OF MY LOFT AND NEVER SHOW YOUR FACE HERE AGAIN! GO!" 

He threw the glass he had picked up straight for Justin's head, smashing it against the wall.

Justin couldn't get out quick enough, tears streaming down his face, he grabbed his sneakers, then snatched his meds from the counter as he rushed out the door, and flew down the stairs. 

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

Justin didn't stop running until he reached the diner, no one was there, it was shut up completely, so he headed to Debbie's. He was flushed and tired when he got there. 

Flinging open the door, he was greeted by an Debbie cleaning the table, her back to him. He started to tell Debbie what had just happened,

"He went mental! I don't know what's up with him this  
time but…shit Debbie, why you crying?" 

"You should know Sunshine" She snapped, and turned around. She was holding his apron, she threw it into him, and he scrambled to catch it. 

"Get out" She snarled, "You aren't welcome here  
anymore."

"But Debbie… tell me what I did! Please?" He pleaded, but received no answer. He slipped on his sneakers which he had been holding, and ran out, `I have to find Emmet. Maybe Emmet will help me, he normally does.' He thought helplessly.

He walked into Woody's, and the crowd parted as if he was Moses, everyone started whispering and he began to feel so isolated, enough to turn and run, but then he spotted Emmet and Ted at the bar.

"Hey guys, buy me a coke? I've had the weirdest day"

Justin checked out the bar tender. A ringing made him look down. Emmet had dropped a handful of change, straight to the floor. Justin stared at him, then to Ted,

"Pick it up. Murderer." Justin looked so distressed that Ted almost took it back, but then he remembered Michael falling on him, and the sympathy evaporated into hate and contempt.

" Look I don't know what's going on here," Justin  
offered, picking up the change, as lowly and degrading as it was, he needed liquid to take his pills with. But they were all scaring him, and tears welled up in his eyes as he got a diet cola from the bartender and took out his tablets. 

Ted and Emmet just stared at him with repulsion.

"I don't get it," His hands were shaking, and he downed the pills. 

His palms went pale from gripping the glass, and the tears builded when Brian deposited himself on the stool next to him and turned to him, hatred clear.

His breath was becoming ragged, and he started hyperventilating, hands shaking uncontrollably. 

Brian had always, always helped him, never leaving him alone during an attack, but he just sat there, as Justin fell, the glass smashing and cutting Justin's hands, as he fought for his balance before looking up to see Emmet's concerned face, and Brian's scornful one. 

Why wouldn't Brian help him, he needed him… `I don't  
understand, I won't understand…I can't…'

He had to get out of there, and he scrambled for the door, blood dropping behind him while Brian ordered another Jim Beam. Emmet got up to follow him, but was pulled firmly back into his seat by Brian, who didn't even look away from his drink.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

It was gone 2 o'clock when Justin ventured to the loft, his hand having stopped bleeding about 20 minutes after the fit stopped. He had sat cowering in the ally behind Babylon, and blown a few guys, feeling detached, scared and needing the money. Now he really was a slut like Brian said. 

Now he maybe deserved what he said, after all he was selfish, Brian had helped him so much, and he had had to have done something really bad for Brian to hate him so much.

He was trying to find his meds, he only had another lot, he though Brian had fetched them, but he hadn't, and he didn't have enough to go fetch them himself, once again he was relying on Brian. 

He tiptoed through the loft, searching for his things. Turning around, he was confronted with Brian, drunk and angry. His stomach knotted as Brian raised his hand. 

Time froze before the first blow came, but after that the hits rained down so quickly he never had a chance of defending himself. Justin curled on the floor beside the door, arms over his head trying to stop the blows. 

`Why? What have I done Bri, I didn't mean to do whatever I did, I swear, I'll stop, I promise, I'm so sorry. Please, please stop' He pleaded silently. 

When Brian did stop, he didn't move, but remained utterly still, limp on the floor, bruises forming even as Brian watched with satisfaction. 

Brian hauled him to his feet and pulled him up against his chest, the beaten boy falling against him. Brian kissed the top of his head gently as he swayed gently, weak and battered. 

Then shoved him forcefully out the door, until he fell straight back, hitting his head on the cold floor. He grasped the back of his head, the pain thundering like one of his migraines through his skull, before he got up and again fled, using the wall for support as he lurched down the stairs, homeless, loveless and hopeless. 

He lay at the bottom of the stairwell, until he was reduced into a crying heap by a strong pang of loss and rejection.


	2. I Didn't Do It

In the early morning Justin found himself hauled from the floor at the bottom of the stairs to his feet, and as his vision cleared, he could see two people in uniforms in front of him. 

 

"Mr Taylor?" Justin squeezed his eyes closed and opened them, so he could see, and nodded, yawning. 

 

"Are you unarmed…? No gun? Mr Taylor? We would like to take you to the station, you are being charged with the murder of one Mr Michael Novanty. You have the right to remain silent, anything you say…" There was more, but Justin didn't even register it, he was being  
accused of killing Mikey. 

 

He didn't, `Did I?' He thought desperately to the night before. `No, I came straight from the diner, then fell asleep in the loft waiting for… Brian… He thinks, he thinks that I killed Michael. How could he? I'd  
never hurt Mikey, would I?' 

 

"Mr Taylor? Mr Taylor? Did you get all that?' Justin gazed bemused at the man, "Your rights Mr Taylor, do you understand?" 

 

Nodding, Justin couldn't help but feel betrayed, they had just presumed he did it, sure it was a fact that Michael and he didn't always get on, `But my head's not that fucked is it? I couldn't have done it and forgotten, or repressed it or something? God, what if  
I did.. but where did I get the gun? I don't have a gun, do I? No, can't remember having one.' 

 

But then a little nagging voice arose in his head, `You don't remember many things do you? What about your dance huh? The one thing you want to remember, too pathetic to see that… You'll see, Brian hates you, and he has good reason, you were never good enough for  
him, huh? Were you?' 

 

The questioning flew by in a rush, nothing seeming to make any sense, he had to find Brian, had to make things right. `But you can't can you? You can't even remember if you did it…' 

 

Self-doubt began to grow in his mind; even his shrink said that he might be repressing other stressful and hurtful times, even if the actual events may have been wonderful, his mind associated them with awful things. 

Maybe this was no different. 

 

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*- 

 

In the end, the police couldn't hold him, because of lack of evidence, no weapon was found, and no one could really identify Justin, just a `Hot little blond twink'. 

 

He was not discounted, and remained the main suspect, as he was on his own, with no way of confirming his whereabouts, he had not even ordered the take out as Brian had told him to that night. 

 

He was too tired and had fallen asleep, that might have given him an alibi, but now he had none. Since the police had released him, no one had heard anything from him, although they knew he had not disappeared.

They had heard things, but not seen, as they had spent the first week planning and carrying out Michael's funeral. 

 

The last week had been spent mourning basically, although to Brian this meant staying home at night, and for Debbie, employing a temp. Emmett spent all his time with Ted, watching old tapes of Michael and the guys when they were younger, up until the night before. 

 

For Brian the first week had been easy, he had something to organise, again. He never thought of Justin except with hate and blame, but at the actual funeral, doubt began to surface in his mind. He couldn't help think that it was just over a month ago that he had held Justin in this church while he broke over his mother's death. 

 

It was so easy to be angry and hurt, but had any of them actually asked Justin about it? Why didn't they believe him? Was the hurt that strong that he just discarded his lover? Justin's bright blue eyes flashed in his mind, asking why? `Don't you believe me Brian?'  
Justin's tears fell `I'd never, ever hurt you, or Mikey. Please believe me.' A feeling of loss filled Brian. The image disappeared as it had come. 

 

That fear and loss quickly changed back to hate as Michael's casket was taken past him. But yet, why couldn't he mislay the feeling of guilt that now threatened to overwhelm him? 

 

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*- 

 

That night, well the next morning at around 3am, Brian glanced to the door, expecting Justin to run in, apologising for nearly missing curfew. But no Justin arrived, and Brian only saw the frightened eyes of  
Justin as he flew backwards out the door. 

 

Brian's throat grew tight, thinking of how Justin had gripped his arm tight enough to leave a mark the last funeral. It reminded him of time not so long ago when he had supported Justin through his fears. 

 

And he had just turned on him. `Fuck…' He thought as hot tears made tracks down his face. `Must be the weed… fucking shit.' A picture, that had been smashed down in a fit of anger caught his eye. He put down the joint and rose to pick the picture up. 

 

Justin had drawn this the week before the shooting; it was Brian, Michael and Justin. In that order. Not only was Michael made to look happy in it, his arm was around Brian, and Justin's around Michael. 

 

There was no contempt in the way Michael was portrayed, and they three looked genuinely happy. 

 

Now none of them were. Here he was, wallowing in Jim Beam, weed, and whatever else he had taken. He didn't even look, and Brian always looked and was careful of what he mixed. 

 

Michael was dead, killed by his lover. `Or was he? Was the pain just too strong? Did your smart ass need someone to blame?' 

 

As for his lover, where was he. He had heard that he was working in Meathook, and he had also heard that he was a `Demo Boi' in one of the roughest dungeons. He remembered Ted's face when they had overheard that at the diner. 

 

Ted was into that, and had `Never been in that shit hole, God, does he want to kill himself.' But then again, the place where Michael used to sit felt awful cold lately. 

 

Emmett was getting really concerned, and was so quiet lately, not wearing outrageous `queeny' clothes, and every time Brian looked at him, he couldn't help feel that Emmett was pleading with him to find his  
Sunshine. 

 

`To Sunshine.' And with that thought, Brian clasped the picture close, swallowed and sobbed as if choked. Then he lifted and downed the rest of the bottle. 

 

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*- 

 

Conversation had run dry between the three at the diner that morning. Brian sipped his coffee mournfully, and Emmett sat a fair distance away from Ted. He spoke up, 

 

"Brian, have you given any thought to what's happened to Justin?" Emmett frowned, 

"What he means is," Emmet rubbed his nose and took a deep breath. "Did any of us see Justin actually do it? The evidence is against him, but it's Sunshine Brian. Do you really believe he did it? I know I've been feeling guilty, have you?" 

Brian sighed and put down his coffee. 

"Of course I have." He played with the edge of the table, picking at the corner. "I can't help it. I'm angry, yeah." He paused, "But at the same time, come on! This is Bubble-butt we're on about." 

 

He stared them straight in the eye "And the more I think about it, the more I'm coming to think that he couldn't have done it. Fuck it what everyone's on about, we didn't even hear him out." 

 

Ted was the logical one. "And he doesn't have his meds for his hand or the headaches?" Brian shook his head, a negative. "And he hasn't been to his Physio or Psych?" Again, no. 

 

A muffled sound emerged from where Brian hand buried himself in his hands. 

"What Brian? Can't hear ya buddy." Ted placed his hand comfortingly on Brian's shoulder. 

 

"I said… and you didn't see what I did to him." Emmett and Ted stared blankly, and then Emmett's mouth opened wide, slack jawed. 

 

"My God Brian, you didn't." Brian's eyes filled. 

 

"I did." He choked and buried his head in his hands. Emmett just looked at Ted. "Oh Teddy, com'on, let's take Brian home." 

 

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*- 

 

"I don't care Brian! You are seeing a shrink! Because I am fucking well not being on suicide watch any longer!!! Go to find Justin!!! Do something about it! Don't just fucking wallow" Emmett was enraged,  
stomping around the loft having a hissy fit after discovering all the different pills stashed, ones that Brian wouldn't normally touch with a `Fucking bargepole' as he had put it. 

 

Ted tried to be the negotiator, as Brian lay impassive on the couch. "Emmett, sweetie, calm down" Emmett lashed around and spat back in Ted's face. 

 

"I don't want to hear it! I mean, Brian, I know we can't miss him exactly like you, but we still love him!!!!! Don't you understand? You know how concerned Sunshine's shrink is! He was unstable anyway! HOW COULD YOU DO THAT AND THEN JUST FUCKING FEEL SORRY FOR YOURSELF!" 

He turned to Brian. 

 

Tears were just falling from Brian's eyes, big wet, hardly touching his face. He looked straight at Emmett, crestfallen. 

 

"I'm sorry." Then looked at the floor and pulled Justin's red jumper closer into him, trying to make it part of himself. 

Emmett's anger vanished and he sighed, shoulders slumping dramatically. He kneeled in front of Brian, and grabbed his chin, making him look. 

 

"I'm guessing what Justin needs now is you, no matter how much you hurt him. He always came back, yeah? `Cause he loves ya hunny. Shall we go find Bubble-butt?" 

 

He watched as the glaze disappeared, and that Kinney spark started to light again. He nodded gently. "Let's get Sunshine back." 

 

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* 

 

"FUCK!" Brian yelled in frustration. It was freezing and his breath bellowed fiercefully in the night air. He rubbed his face again. Ted and Emmett approached from to different ways. 

 

"Anything?" Emmett sighed. Then said, 

"I got something… But you're not gunna like it."  
Ted stepped in front of Emmett as Brian scowled. 

 

"Tell me. Now" He growled. Emmett backed off, revealing a fat middle-aged man in pleather. "Ask him," He pointed "not me" 

 

The man cleared his throat loudly, "You wanna know `bout my new twink?" He patted his pocket, "Cause I'm feelin' kinda light `ere, what ya gunna do for me?" Brian glared, with an utterly disgusted expression on his face. He approached the guy, and craned his long neck, towering over him, 

 

"I'm gunna give you an unbroken neck, that ok?" He sneered, mouth open, breathing on the guy, and the man's eyes opened wide. "Um, Ooookaay. Um, he's new, yeah, you know that…" He ran a finger under his collar under Brian's hot gaze. 

 

He continued. "New, yeah, picked him up at the bus station, sleepin' rough and he really like the rough stuff so I put him as a demo boi. Real cute, and that ass!" 

 

Brian raised his top lip, snarling, anger boiling up. He knew what `Demo Bois' did, especially for sadistic, sick, fat old men. 

 

"Hey, take it easy, anyway he really like the rough stuff yeah, and the clients like the way he displays the `accidents', like fuckin' badges, like he was fuckin' proud of it, loon. I don't know what possesses `em " Silence greeted him, then Ted spoke up. 

 

"Where is he now?" `Short fat and fucked' as Brian had mentally named him, turned to look at Ted. 

 

"Exodus" Ted's jaw dropped. Brian looked in disbelief, then erupted, 

 

"YOU SENT HIM TO FUCKIN' EXODUS? NEW YORK! YOU BASTARD" He grabbed his collar and lifted him, smashing him against the wall behind him! "YOU ARE SOOO GUNNA DIE!" Ted and Emmett fitfully tried to dislodge Brian from the bloke's neck, but he wasn't hearing any of it "YOUR BEST COULDN'T HANDLE THAT FUCKIN' JOINT" He spat at him but through the anger one thought was prominent. 

 

`I gotta find Sunshine.' 

 

He threw the guy to the ground in disgust. He was scared for Justin, and without a second though turned and ran towards the Jeep. "We're getting him back, and we're sorting all of this out. Get in" They did.

Emmett and Ted cast a wary glance toward each other as Brian ripped away from the curb before Emmett had shut his door, driving like man possessed. 

 

Time flew by, and slowly Brian calmed, and guilt overtook him through the quickly dissipating haze of anger. What if Justin was telling the truth? They were wrong, and could have broken him for good. 

 

`How in the fuck can I expect him to look at me again. Let alone forgive me." He blinked heavily, desire for something to take the pain away growing stronger.

Nearly 2 hours he had been driving. 

He risked a glance back to Emmett and Ted; they were sound asleep wrapped together. 

 

`I'll never have that again……I don't deserve anything…" A sick twist gripped his stomach as he imagined what might have happened to his baby. 

 

His blue eyed piece of Sunshine, cowering away from him in the dark, eyes crystalline with terror and disbelief. 

 

`Oh God, I was my father." He swerved dangerously with the realisation, before breathing and regaining control. `I fucked Justin up like Jack did me.' 

 

That familiar fear gripped him, and guilt churned his insides and he found himself consciously stopping himself from stopping to find something stronger than water. ` I might as well finished the job with Hobbes' fuckin' bat.' 

 

He swallowed hard. He had to help Justin. Bring him back. Safe. 

 

`Because... I don't deserve anything……But he does.'


	3. I Didn't Do It

A phone sounded. *Thunffff* A body fell.

"Motherfuckin' piece of… Hello? Yeah?…No? I see, yeah, you're sure?" 

A pause, "Ok, thank you officer." Brian clicked his phone shut before looking around dishelved. 

 

They had decided that Brian was too tired to drive anymore, and there was no way in hell Brian was letting either of them drive the jeep. 

 

So they parked up, and found a motel type place, with one room free, and that room had one Queen sized bed. As Brian huffed, "Absolutely fan-fuckin-tastic…" 

 

Emmett glanced over at the disgruntled Irishman, and Ted appeared from under the sheets next to him. "Fabulous, I told you Teddy, this bed is for a `Queen', not two gay men and a Queen". 

 

Emmet and Ted had been sharing half of the `queen' size bed, because Brian was not going to have his equal share between three, and had been bitching about Ted's "Fat fuckin' ass". 

 

That was until Emmett and Ted squidged together so tightly they nearly fell off the offending bed. Then Brian's cell rang and he was the one falling off, on his ass. Taking most of the sheets with him, and  
looking a suitable mess in just his jeans. 

 

"That was Officer Judimici." He paused, "Well?" "It wasn't Justin." He sighed. "They got the weapon, and a fortnight on, they got prints from it. Bastards, they've had the gun for ten days now." Silence fell,  
and an aura of disbelief descended on the trio. 

 

Emmet was the first to speak up, lips pinched, and then "Poor Baby… Our trust was all he wanted." 

"Stop talking about him as if he's fuckin' dead"

 

It was silent in the room as Brian picked up his shirt from the back of the one chair, and sat on the edge of the bed to pull on his shoes. Emmett and Ted took that as their cue to get moving too. 

 

Thoughts raced through Brian's mind. `It wasn't him. It wasn't him. It wasn't Sunshine. He, he didn't do it. Now he's alone, alone again. Fuck… I was meant to look after him.' 

 

\---------------------- 

 

At ten am and after 3 hours of scouring every street, (it seemed) in New York, Emmet was having to hold onto Ted for support, but Brian wasn't even noticing either his own lack of food, or Emmett's. 

 

As Emmett clutched to Ted as dramatically as he could, finally Ted decided he had to say something. 

 

"Brian, we're sorry but we haven't had anything to eat since yesterday, we need to find a place to grab a bite." 

 

Brian didn't stop walking, didn't even slow down, not acknowledging he had heard him. His eyes were still frantically searching for any sign of a blond head he would recognise. 

 

"BRIAN! FUCKING STOP!" That did it, he stopped, and turned, but only to glare at Ted and start walking yet again. Ted sighed and stopped, halting Emmett too. "I get the feeling we're fighting a loosing battle here Em, let's go get something." 

 

Emmett looked reluctant to stop looking, but in the end, common sense and his aching stomach got the better of him. As they trudged towards the nearest café, they couldn't help but wonder what Brian had taken to keep him going like he was. `But then again,'  
Emmett thought `I'd be worried if he was still going, and hasn't taken anything.' 

 

Sighing, Emmett and Ted sat down in the first booth they came across, and ordered a coffee, while Ted deliberated over the limited menu, and Emmett picked at the cheap blue vinyl on the seats. 

 

Meanwhile, Brian was determined not to give up. It felt strangely familiar as he slumped onto a park bench and rubbed his face, feeling the growth of stubble there. It was now nearing 2 O'clock, and he  
had rung Ted on his cell. 

 

Nothing, they couldn't find a trace of Justin anywhere. A young, good-looking, obviously gay teenager was just passing him. Dressed in pulling clothes, tight with wifebeater and jeans. Brian grabbed his wrist and spun him around. 

 

Taking Brian's gesture the wrong way entirely, the teen smiled seductively, giving Brian the once over. He caught the glance, "No, sorry buddy, just wanna know where Exodus is" Brian flashed his `Fuck me, I'm gorgeous smile' but the guy was already pulling away  
from him. Looking decidedly freaked, 

 

"Listen man, I'm not into that ok? It's on Clumber Way, just leave me alone.." and he was gone, retreating twice as fast as he had been walking.

Taking a deep breath, Brian realised that this place was serious, and he need to find Justin. `And quickly' He pulled himself to his feet, and took a check on the world as it spun around him, and decided it might help to eat something. 

 

Doing what he swore he never would, Brian walked to the nearest vendor and bought a hot-dog. He didn't taste the reprocessed meat as he checked his map and carried on walking to Clumber Way. 

 

\--------- 

 

He didn't really expect to find anything, as the club wasn't open in the day. But he was surprise as is was that there was a bar open at normal times, that was part of Exodus. It reeked of smoke and BO, and Brian crinkled his nose and snorted as he approached the  
bar. 

 

The bar tender was fat and old, with a sort grey beard, and hardly any of that hair on his head. He wore an old apron, dirtied and faded with age and use, and was smoking, taking deep breaths then spewing the  
fumes everywhere. He looked up as Brian sat down. 

 

"What's ya poison lad?" He took another deep drag, and found he had run out of cigarette. He snubbed it out in an ashtray near Brian's arm. 

 

"Jim Beam, straight." The man chuckled and Brian looked blankly at him. "I'll min' tha pun laddy." He had a thick Scottish accent, which brought a smile to Brian's face, and the tension that was in him seemed to flow out through his hand, into the JB that had  
been placed there. 

 

Then a few minutes spent mulling over his drink, "You seen a new kid working here? At night I mean." The man wrinkled his brow, as if in deep thought, "We've `ad a few new ens `n lately, what do' he look like?" 

 

"Very twinkie, blond hair, blue eyes, not that tall. Called Justin." 

 

The man's face dropped, and he smiled gently. 

 

"I know tha' laddy, sweet boy if der ever waz en, ran inta some trouble tho'." 

The colour drained from Brian's face, as the man carried on regardless. 

 

"Yeah, I kno' `im. `Ad a tough nite wid one of da clients. Poor Sonny." Brian swallowed slowly. 

 

"Do you know where he could be now?" Again the man wrinkled his brow, "Try the bridges near fifth, lots of em sleep `round der." And Brian was gone. 

 

The bar tender smiled as he threw away the half finished Beam. 

 

\-------------- 

 

After searching until eight, Brian was beginning to loose hope. Fear gripped his stomach, as he knew that this was the next to last bridge on fifth. 

 

As he turned into the sheltered part of this one, he saw a now familiar site, three people were curled in various bits of things to keep warm, and Brian felt genuinely sorry for them. 

 

As he walked past, he looked at the first, second and then third person. The first two slept on oblivious, but the third gazed up at him with such blue eyes. 

 

That they stood out from the long black hair that surrounded them. He started to walk away. When a bold, but unmistakably young voice yelled to him. 

 

"Hey mister! Who ya looking for? I can help ya, honest I can." The Irish lilt stuck out a mile, even though she was trying to hide it. 

 

He turned back and looked at the defiant gaze. She was probably nearly sixteen, or even younger. 

 

He crouched down beside her and took in her pitifully thin figure, he couldn't image this happening to Gus. He smiled gently, and pulled out a photo. 

 

"Oh!" She exclaimed, her eyes filling with tears, as she stared adoringly at him. "You're Mister Brian, you've come ta help Jussy, right?" He gawked at her as she stood up, and pulled him after her. 

 

She recounted her tale to him as she dragged him, "Jussy helped me so much, you see this?" She pointed to a cut on her forehead and Brian blinked as he saw a cut much similar to Justin's bashing wound. 

 

"Well it wouldn't stop bleeding, and he showed me how ta stop it." 

 

She was oblivious to Brian's distress as she pulled him along. 

 

She was deceptively strong for her tiny frame, and Brian glanced at her bare feet as they walked through rough concrete and glass. She caught him looking, and giggled, then she whispered as they rounded the corner. 

 

"Don't ya worry, I've been barefoot so long my feet are hard on the bottom. It doesn't hurt. Here, here's where Jussy lives." 

 

She scampered off without so much as a thanks from Brian, and he was left looking at one small figure wrapped in something dark, braced against the wall. 

 

Brian slowly approached the huddled form, afraid that if he moved any closer, he would just disappear before his eyes. He recognised the jacket, it was his short black leather that Justin was wearing when he was thrown out the loft. 

 

Remembering his hurt face pulled a twinge in Brian'sstomach, and raised a lump in his throat. He wasn't prepared for what faced him. 

 

Justin had no one left when Brian had left him, his mother had left, his sister had left, and he was all alone. 

 

All he had wanted was Brian, nothing else, and he had lost that. The figure was still and a heavy smell hung in the air. Terror made Brian shake and gasp as he thought of what Justin might have done. What Brian would have done. 

 

Brian sat behind him, looking over to his face, Justin's eyes were shut, tears escaping from closed lids, and he was too out of it to even notice Brian's presence. 

 

His shoulder's were shaking and tensing. He looked, to Brian's eyes, just like a scared puppy. One that had been kicked by it's Master. 

 

But didn't understand why.


	4. I Didn't Do It

Brian's breath caught in his mouth as he looked on to the young man curled in a heap on the cement. The memory of that fateful night took the caught breath away and the Irishman had to blink to clear the blood covered film from his eyes. The blond hadn't noticed his quiet approach, and what Brian saw brought a lump to his throat. 

He was huddled in a small bundle, Brian's jacket, far too big, wrapped around his form, and Brian could tell from the small hitch of the bundle that he was repressing sobs. Two drawings were taped haphazardly to the grimy cement wall, crumpled from his rush away from the loft, one of Justin and Brian, and one of Brian and Gus. 

In the first, Brian was gently resting his head on Justin's shoulder, and Brian didn't think he had ever seen a more content expression on anyone's face but Justin's. The second expressed all the love Justin felt for Brian and his son, both were drawn as if some sort of idols, Gods. 

The one thing that bothered Brian, however, was the fact that he had   
never seen the first, and it definitely wasn't as good as anything Justin had drawn. The lines were harsh and seemed unguided, and Brian put his hand in his pocket and felt the bottle of medication he had brought with him.

Brian stood, torn between saving his Justin, and seeing the hurt he   
had caused. He slowly advanced, trying to think of what he would say, but no words came, and he approached with caution. Wide blue eyes pierced the darkness of the dank underpass, and breathing hitched as Justin tried to process what he was seeing. 

If it was possible, Justin curled back in on himself, as he saw the pained expression of his once lover, and misunderstood, thinking he   
had caused that pain, prepared for what he was sure would be another lesson. Brian's heart almost broke, and he kneeled down, gently putting his right hand onto the soft leather encasing Justin's   
shoulder. 

Immediately, he had a jacket in his hand, and Justin was curled further away. Justin thought he wanted his jacket back… He had hurt him that much, and all the boy had wanted was to be with him, he had abused that trust, and although he was proud, he could not deny the loss he felt while Justin was lost.

"No Justin, I don't want the jacket," he sighed "come here." He spoke the words softly, as if talking to a broken animal, and he reached out for the blond. 

The instant his hand touched the care flesh of Justin's arm, the boy's gaze met his, and scared ice eyes stared from beneath long, dirty bangs, tears welling, and falling silently in big, heavy tears rolling down the scuffed face. Justin did not come towards him, but he didn't retreat either, and Brian reached for him again.

Not the smartest move it would appear, as Justin scrambled up to his   
feet, using the wall as support, shaking like a leaf, hand clutched to his chest, the tears coming faster as he tried to protect himself from the beating he thought was immanent. 

Thoughts of running and hiding strong in the young man's mind, he   
stood ready to flee, but he found himself frozen as warm arms encased him in an embrace he had been wanting so badly on the   
freezing nights.

Brian cringed as he felt the small form. He knew how much the human   
disposal had to eat to keep the mere weight he was, and the cold   
skin covering little flesh beneath his fingers was testament to the   
trauma Justin had been put through.

An uncomfortable silence hung in the air as Justin stood, taut as   
pulled the larger man's arms. Brian cleared his throat, "Um, those arn't bad." He whispered, tilting his head towards the two drawings. 

Still there was no response from Justin, and Brian pulled away and held Justin at arms length, looking at the face of the boy. "So you're not hurt?" He questioned, raking his eyes up and down the blond. 

Slowly and hesitantly, Justin brought his right hand up, it was clenched, and shaking, and obviously causing him pain. Brian let go   
of the boy and gently encased the one smaller hand with both of his   
own, he gently started massaging it, around in circles. Slowly, Brian started speaking.

"I don't expect you to forgive me. What I did was wrong in every sense of the word." He stopped to clear the invisible blockage in his throat. "But I'd like for you to come back to the Pitts." Justin just stared at him in wonder. Seeing he was getting no response, Brian continued. 

"You don't even have to live with any of us, let alone me." He started sounding desperate, and became hurried as confusion clouded Justin's features. "I'll get you a new place, and I'm sure Debbie'll be just as sorry as we all are, Sunshine, I'm so sorry, I never meant for this to happen to…" 

Brian was stopped in his tracks as he felt the hand he had been holding trace his jaw line, and he froze completely as the shaky hand trace his bottom lip. Scared to move and break the contact, he just watched as Justin stared at him closely, then a small voice emerged from the blond.

"Don't even have to? You, you mean you would have me back after, after all I did?" Astonishment covered Brian, "What do you mean, after all you did?" Now tracing Brian's ear, the blond met his eyes for a second before saying. "I killed Mikey."

Silence hung between them.

"No you didn't, they got the guy." Yet again the confusion and wonder that enclosed Justin's face pulled at Brian's weakened heart-strings. "I didn't?" Justin bit his lower lip before continuing. "Then why did you get rid of me? I must have done something really bad." 

Brian rubbed his face wearily, all Brian could think of was how badly he'd fucked up, and how fucked up the kid must be to believe that he killed someone, just because he was told he did. "No, you didn't, and you should be really mad at me now." Then the silence again.

"So you're saying you'll have me back." Justin questioned, tone utterly disbelieving.

"Of course." Before the words were fully out, Brian had his arms full of his Sunshine, and a shaggy dirty blond mane in the side of his neck, and he almost doubled over in the sheer relief of it all.

Justin mumbled against his neck, "I just want to go home Bri, I'm so cold, an', an' my hand hurts." The Irish man couldn't help the tears that formed in his eyes, or the small catch in his voice as he spoke soothingly. 

"Shhh, it's ok now." `Shit, he's not thinking clearly, Sunshine, you're gunna hate me when you remember.'

Lost in his inner musings, Brian was only jolted as he felt the small frame sliding down, and he caught Justin firmly, and lifted him to hold him against his chest, marvelling at the way Justin had collapsed so trustingly into him, or perhaps it was just because he was exhausted. 

He hoped it was the first, although rationally he realised the boy   
should hate him. He realised, he probably would hate him, and the   
familiar sting and itch in his eyes as he held the boy closer. 

`I'm sorry baby, I just want to be close to you for a bit longer,' he held a short sob, `cause I know you'll leave me'. He gazed down adoringly, bitter sweet smile in place, `everyone does, they all do.' 

Brian pressed a kiss to the dirty hair, and felt, and heard Justin sigh happily, nuzzling closer and further into the crook of Brian's neck. What did disturb Brian, however, was just how light, and cold the blond was, and he headed towards the nearest hotel, precious treasure held close.


End file.
